Do You Know How To Waltz?
by Hana Kafuka
Summary: Rika Katayama (the April Fools character the devs made) and Elliott (OC) are away from each other after Rika tried to kill him just like she did her father. While away, their relationship and histories are explored revealing the pain that brings the two together yet drives them apart through a series of flashbacks. Written from an RP storyline, a friend and I created.
1. Chapter 1

{Dedication and thanks goes to Luna, Johnny, Silver, and Parsons}

Elliott heard the bed creak in Akira's room, her door open and light footsteps come to a stop at his door. He could picture someone with their fist held out ready to rap the door but hesitating at the last moment.

"If you're going to interrogate me, Eos, stop wasting my time and just do it."

He hears a disgusted scoff in response and the footsteps retreat away from the door. Elliott sighs and stares up at the ceiling. His mind drifts to painful places and he closes his eyes temporarily.

_"Why do you want to learn about me?" she asked warily._

_He looked her in the eye. "Better question: Why don't you want to be learned about?"_

_She averted his gaze and slightly shifted. "I never said I don't want to avoid being not learned about."_

Elliott opened his eyes. Silence had descended on the apartment; he could hear Akira snoring through the wall. He gets up and opens the small suitcase he brought, checking if everything he needed was in there. Perfect. Everything accounted for. He walks to the window and looks to the empty street below, save for the occasional person walking by or car. His mind drifts to another memory….

"_I've been thinking about last time. That question you asked me. I think deep down you don't like being cooped up here alone. No company. Probably, no friends? It sucks."_

_ "I don't need friends. Or anything other than this room. There's plenty to do." She sighs after saying this and lays back, frowning._

_He shakes his head. "Now, I know you don't mean that."_

_"I mean it. I don't need friends."_

_"Look me in the eyes and say that."_

_She gets up, slowly goes over to him and crouches in front of him, her face mere inches from his, her scarlet eyes burning into his dark brown ones. She reiterates every word with heavy emphasis on each. _

_"I. Don't. Need. Friends."_

_He stares back, mesmerized by her fiery gaze, lost for words._

_"There. I said it." She sighs and moves back to her original position. "No one needs friends. No one. Mm-hmm." She nods certainly and closes her eyes. _

_He was still stuck on her eyes._

Elliott moved away from the window to the dresser and stopped to see his reflection in the mirror on top of it. There were black circles under his eyes from lack of sleep. His eyes were darker than when he came. His hair was disheveled and his expression was one of desperation and confusion. His whole essence seemed to be a sigh of resignation, a dangerous kind of resignation that drove people to a self-inflicted death. He looks back at himself blankly, worn and ragged from a war within.

"What went wrong?" he asked. His reflection replied with the same question, slightly mocking. Elliott looked down at his feet and bites his lip, feeling a persistence of loss on his being. Mike. Eos. Rika…where is everybody? He felt alone, alienated and confused. He wanted to disappear. Disappear and never be found again. He wanted to die.

"There's nothing left for me here…" Elliott whispered to himself. He went into his suitcase and took out his black songbook. He rips out an empty page and simply wrote "Thank you for everything." He signed the note "Your little brother, Elliott xo." Elliott then picked up his guitar, strapped it to his back and picked up the suitcase with his left hand. He looks around the room then goes to the door and opens it…

_His eyes widened at the sight before him. She leaned on the desk near the window in the back of the room. She shook gently, barely able to stand up. A white shirt lay on the floor at her feet stained by little droplets of red liquid. She held a green boxcutter in her hand with the blades slightly out. The moonlight shone through the window, illuminating her white, porcelain-like skin._

_"Rika…." He whispers, stepping back in horror. _

_She tilts her head. "Yes?"_

_Elliott backed into the wall and slumped against it to the floor. Small cuts lined up and down her arms and even some parts of her legs. They were many of them, some were half-healed and others still had blood leaking from them. She smiled and set the boxcutter on her desk before moving to her bed and sitting down. She yawned and pressed her wounds, softly grimacing in pain._

_He watched her, snapped out of shock and jumped up angrily. "RIKA! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!_

_She blinks in confusion at his sudden outburst. "Err….cutting myself. It's quite obvious. Yes." She nods. "You should q-q-qui-e-et d-down…"_

_"I'M NOT GOING TO QUIET DOWN. YOU'RE FUCKING TRYING TO-" He rushes over, snatches the boxcutter from the desk, goes to the front door of the dorm and chucks it as far as he can into the night. He storms back in the room and commands her to give him her arm to inspect the cuts._

_"Okay…?" She holds out her arm without complaint and he gently but firmly takes it, inspecting the cuts. "I d-don't know what the b-b-big deal i-is…"_

_"The BIG DEAL IS YOU COULD HAVE CUT SOMETHING WRONG AND…AND-" He can't bring himself to say it and he turns away swearing. _

_She smiles wistfully. "That's the point, isn't it?"_

_The slap echoed across the room. Her face was tilted sideways by the hardness of it and a red mark appeared on her cheek where he struck._

_She turned her head back into position, staring ahead, and then slowly turned to him._

_He breathed heavily, his hand still drawn. _

_She stops and looks him dead in the eye, her gaze afire. A deranged smile slowly creeps across her face, wide as a Cheshire cat's. She speaks her words sharp as knives. _

_ "Haha, wow. Now, I know you're definitely the same."_

The front door to the apartment shuts and the note briefly flutters on the table.


	2. Chapter 2

** [One Week Earlier]**

Rika sat on the edge of her bed. It was close to midnight and the room was pitch dark and cold. She had no visitors for about two weeks. Especially _him. _Ever since she tried to…. She shakes her head and a jolt of guilt goes through her.

Guilt.

…Guilt?

"Why….?" She asked herself aloud.

It was not by any means an unfamiliar feeling. But it never surfaced like this before. She always kept it buried, deep, deep, down so she could never feel it. Rika grit her teeth and closed her eyes.

_'It hurts….'_

Rika sighed and opened her eyes. She got up from the bedside, turned on the light and walked over to the small dresser next to her bed, digging through the drawers. She pulls out a pair of children's scissors, eyeing them with numb curiosity. She shut the dresser drawer, opened another and retrieved a dry towel from it. She left the room, shut off the light and walked down to the bathroom she shared with her next door neighbor, Saki Enomoto. The dorms were extremely quiet; each one had to rise early for school the next morning.

Rika went in and shut the door. The tile floor was cold and bracing as she had no socks covering her feet. She undressed and folded her clothes, placing them on top of the sink. She slid open the shower door, steps in and turns the knobs.

_Too cold! _

Rika immediately jumps back in shock from the freezing water.

_No….this isn't right….._

She touches the cold water and immediately pulls back her fingers. She did not understand. She always took showers this cold…why not now… She slowly turns the knob.

_Warm….warmer…even warmer….hot…no. More…more!_

She stood under the scalding water, feeling it run all over her body and the steam slowly enveloping and heating her. Her breath hitches and she closes her eyes, savoring the sensation. Her hands slowly go down the length of her body and she lets out a prolonged sigh of bliss.

_"You're beautiful, you know that."_

Rika opens her eyes. She reaches out of the shower, grabs the scissors and runs the closed blade along her snow-white skin. She flicks open the scissors and presses the blade against her finger. A trickle of blood runs down, dripping into the water.

_Not enough…_

She makes a swift cut across the palm of her hand and gasps in pain, dropping the scissors. A few droplets surface from the cut before a line of blood emerges and stains her hand, spilling into the water below. She puts her hands to her head, slowly dragging them across her hair and down to her face, smearing it all over. She takes her hands away and stares at them.

_"That flawless white skin and those scarlet eyes…. They're beautiful." He backs away and takes her in, nodding at his statement. "They should be appreciated more. You should be appreciated more." He goes over and embraces her and kisses her on the forehead. "Like a work of art…."_

She picks up the scissors and looks down at her body. She thought she was a freak of nature…

"Ghost girl…Snow bitch…"

That's what they called her. Insult to injury. Her physical scars…..

_"THE BIG DEAL IS YOU COULD HAVE CUT SOMETHING WRONG AND…AND-"_

She looked her at wrist, crisscrossed with cut marks.

And her emotional scars….

_She smiled at him, a sad happiness to it. "Isn't that the point?"_

Rika gripped the scissors and swiped across her abdomen. A moan escapes her lips and she staggers a bit, gritting her teeth, reveling in the pain.

_"You won't leave me…right Elliott? L-l-like Papa t-t-too?" He held her hand and replied. "I won't leave you. I won't. I'll always be here."_

Her chest aches and she closes her eyes, breathing heavily.

_'It hurts…'_

She cuts once again.

_Not enough._

And again.

_More…_

And again.

_No…it still hurts…_

She weaves the scissor blade across her body using one hand with the finesse and passion of an orchestra conductor, her other hand caressing her bloodstained physique. Her fingers stroked her face, slowly going down her neck and collarbone with each cut becoming rougher and rougher.

_She remembers their hands. All over. Crawling across her body like million spiders… She begs and pleads for them to stop…_

They approach the swell of her breasts and roughly kneads them. She loudly moans and she slightly loses her balance, her mind and eyes beginning to cloud over.

_Her father suckles and kneads the forbidden fruit she bore. He stops and looks up at her smiling, with a fatherly love in his eyes while continuing the act as if she were another woman lying in his bed._

_"Rika. You're so beautiful…just like your mother." He kisses her on the forehead. "My own little work of art."_

Her fingers edge slowly down her abdomen, her breathing becoming ragged and labored.

_He pulls down her undergarments with deliberation, kissing her from her collarbone down to her navel. He beams at her, tears slowly coming down his face._

_"I'm sorry. I need this… I'll make it up to you, Rika…."_

Her fingers find her core and she looks down, gasping in anticipation…

_…and fear. He positions himself above her…_

Her fingers edged slowly toward the entrance….

_…and he slowly entered her…_

She gasped as her fingers moved inside of her…

_Tears cascaded down her face as he went in. He stops before the final thing keeping her purity intact. He looks up at her in the dark and whispers "I'm so sorry, Rika."and breaks through._

She lets forth a guttural cry of pleasure and sinks to her knees.

_He moved in and out of her, picking up speed and intensity. The sounds resounded through the room. She closed her eyes. Her breathing hitches. It's coming._

She pumps her fingers in and out of her core, holding onto the built in soap rack for support. She was almost there…

_"Papa…something is coming…! It feels strange! Stop it, please!" _

_He picks up the pace. "I'm close…I'm almost…almost!"_

"Elliott! I..I!"

_He gives one, final thrust and cries out, releasing his seed within her._

Her back arches and she screams his name at the point of almost shredding her vocal cords.

_"PAPAAAAAAA!" Her voice echoes through the room. _

She loses her balance and collapses to the floor of the shower, under the continuous flow of water.

_He collapses on top of her, exhausted and her body relaxes._

The shower continues to pour on her and the bloody water slowly seeps down the drain.

_It hurts..._


End file.
